


Crush'd

by frozenlychee



Category: Batgirl (Comics), Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, damisteph, i just really miss them bros, i promised the hurt is almost non-existence.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:55:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23213623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frozenlychee/pseuds/frozenlychee
Summary: His blue eyes search for hers, and Stephanie feels the heat of his embrace expanding on her skin. Like poison, it burns.And Damian Wayne, despite himself, lets his mind trails away on her lips.
Relationships: Stephanie Brown/Damian Wayne
Comments: 8
Kudos: 47





	Crush'd

**Author's Note:**

  * For [quipquipquip](https://archiveofourown.org/users/quipquipquip/gifts).



> HELLO I HAVE RECENTLY FALLEN HEADFIRST DOWN THE DAMISTEPH RABBITHOLE (again) and decided i wanted to give them something soft. especially after i reread quipquipquip's amazing [No Dawn, No Day ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/218379) and cried straight for an hour afterwards. (srsly please read because this is a classic fic in the fandom)
> 
> she sparked my love for DamiSteph since 2011 and finally, I could write something small to gift her back. i adore you Kitty!! <3
> 
> name of the fic is based on Crush'd by Say Anything. it fits them well.

His blue eyes search for hers, and Stephanie feels the heat of his embrace expanding on her skin. Like poison, it burns. 

“Damian,” she pleads, whimpering at his touch. 

And for once in his life, Damian lets himself go.

The Batcave’s night lights coat them with velvety yellow and purple strokes, making her pale skin almost glow in the dark. It must have been a fantasy, to be this intimate in the place that birthed them all. The beginning of things. 

Stephanie closes her eyes, her chest rises and falls in a rhythmic beat. She inhales slowly as her tangly blond hair drape down her cheeks and neck, covering up the heat spreading from deep blushes. She decides to steady herself on his thighs, leaning her head back the monitors and willfully lets Damian explores her body in his own meticulous way. 

He’s like his father in that sense, careful, collective, and yet, so reckless. Rash and silly because out of all the damsels in distress he could have ever had in this city, he chooses her, who only puts the _‘dam(n)’_ in ‘damsel’. 

Despite the rush start, they quickly come to a halt the moment he unzips her outfit, leaving Stephanie exposed and vulnerable under his touch. The latex fabric hangs over her shoulders, its vibrant purplish hues now dimmed and fading under his shadow. Still, she can feel his eyes on her, taking in the image he has never seen before. 

Damian starts counting the freckles he didn’t have a chance to see, blooming on the bare shoulders he never dared touch. Quietly, he starts counting the scars that weren’t there before, the new and old ones that have almost healed from the time they spent apart. He traces over them time and time again, leaving behind ghostly touches where his gaze previously has been.

Then it hits him that they were no longer in costumes. 

No longer pretending to hide behind masks and stupid identities. 

Sitting on his laps and blushing deeply, is Stephanie Brown, the girl who bites back with heat, the girl who answers before she thinks, the cause of his many headaches; and finally, the girl Damian Wayne _had fallen in love with_ before he understood the weight of the word.

All he sees is her. Undoubtedly her.

And all he wants is her.

Ten years was a long gap.

In the ten years they were apart, Damian has gotten taller. Broader. The irises of his eyes have fallen deeper, more abstruse. All things considered, under the Gotham sky, Stephanie swears she can still make out the image of the boy he once has been, within the man he is now.

And at the same time, she too has changed. 

“Brown.” He finally responds, waking her from the daze. Voice stern and steady while his eyes lock in with hers. Rough fingers brushing through her golden locks of hair, and she eases herself into that so easily. Willingly. Like their relationship has been built on years of caressing and not a hasty welcome back.

On the contrast, he’s slow. Hesitant. 

Damian is cautious, curious and wistful. As if he has closed his eyes for one second, or his finger hasn’t trace over her curves repeatedly to make sure this is real, she would slip through like sand and dust. 

Like a fantasy that is too good to be true.

“ _You’re… so small._ ” He finally blurts out after coming to a stop with his sensory experiences, breathing warmly against her neck.

“Excuse you?” She turns her head to his ear, but there’s no bite. Her tone is playful. Too playful. “May I remind you that beggars can’t be chooser, Damian Wayne. The amount of stress you have caused me in your angst years went directly to these boobies, dude.” 

She breaks contact from him, pressing her breasts up to prove a silly point. One look at them, cupped inside her white bra, makes Damian forgot that breathing is essential.

“No--” He stumbles, tan skin meets with a crimson red. And in a short-lived moment, he feels the rush of teenage embarrassment painted clear on his face. “For God’s sake, Brown. I am not insulting the size of your chest right before we make love.”

“We make what now?”

He groans at the apparent, evident amusement in her face, choosing to ignore her last comment. It would have destroyed every bit of his ego to admit he said that.

“I meant: you’re so small compared to what I remember of you.” 

When he’s met with the raised of her eyebrows, Damian decides to further elaborate on his explanation. “When I was ten, you were tall, almost towering. And you seemed so… so out of reach, Brown. You were fifteen, and your height must have fair but formidable for that age, but, you were far away. It seemed as if you would disappear at any moment, despite the non-existence physical distance between us, despite how much you let me in your world.”

He pauses at the touch of her fingers sliding into his. So small. So tender. He murmurs. And yet, they fit perfectly in his rugged palm.

Damian takes in a long breath.

“By the time I hit puberty, you really did. You vanished. Off radar. No one could reach you, and you didn’t want to be reached. So I respected that. I promised myself that I wouldn’t look you up. Would leave you alone. Let you live the calm, civilian life you long dreamed about.”

“And you did.” Stephanie nods, resting her head gently against the side of his nape, patting his back with her free hand. “You did so well, D.”

“Yes.” He replies. Taking in the scent of her hair, the softness of her skin and the weight of her existence. 

“And I’m here now.” She buries her face deeper. “I’m here forever, and there’s nothing you can do to get rid of me, Wayne.”

“You’re here.” He pleasantly responds. A quiet grin spreads across his lips. “Finally, you’re here. In the flesh. And you’re soft. And small. And different from my memory. You’re more resilient than I give you credits for and yet---” _he wants to hold her forever_. 

The words are left unsaid, but Stephanie knows. From the way she lovingly nudges her nose against his neck instead of any teasing bite back, she knows, she is his home.

_Stephanie Brown is his home._

“Just shut up and kiss me already, D.” 

The blonde beauty beams, her cheeks dimple and he is caught off guard at the sudden impact. Her arms flung out to wrap him in a tight embrace, and for once in his life, Damian knows better than to fight this. 

So the raven-haired man, despite himself, lets his mind trails away on her lips, to the possible happy forever after he didn't dare to dream about.

**Author's Note:**

> have a good day and stay safe! thank you for reading :).


End file.
